


A Little Love goes a Long Way

by demon_ducks (uruhead)



Category: Game Grumps, Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: ABDL, Diapers, Gen, Headspace, Little, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, daddy dom, dd/l
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 08:23:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7501080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uruhead/pseuds/demon_ducks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was strange to think that Brian was in this situation, taking care of Ross on the regular, but he honestly would have it no other way.</p>
<p>[pls don't judge too harsh, this is very self indulgent. i think everyone needs to have moments where they just chill out and have a Safe Space]</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Love goes a Long Way

Brian paused at the edge of the kitchen, backing up a moment to look into the living room. Ross was lying on his stomach scribbling with a blue pencil and his tongue sticking out. His shirt rode up over his back and shorts barely holding onto his hips even with the added plush of the pull-up he had on. The carpet completely covered in different toys: Transformers, cars, pencils, pieces of paper that looked like they had been stepped on a few time, and more. It was truly astounding how fast Ross could mess up a room if left to his own devices.

“Ross,” Brian said in a low, stern voice.

Obviously, Ross was caught red handed. His shoulders hitched up and his eyes flew to Brian, looking terrified for a second before he smiled sweetly. “Hi, Daddy.”

“Why are all of your toys out?”

Ross licked his lips and then reached over for a few different toys. Optimus Prime, a red pencil and a car, putting them together so it looked like the Transformer was coloring the car red. “I'm playing with them.”

Brian furrowed his brow for a moment before stepping fully into the living room. He crossed his arms. “It doesn't look like you're playing with _all_ of them, Ross. What's our rule about playing with your toys?”

Looking particularly crestfallen, Ross looked down at the floor and kicked his feet a few times on the ground, socks sliding around on the hardwood. He mumbled incoherently, covering his mouth with his hands.

“What's that? I can't hear you.”

Taking a gulp of air, Ross spoke clearly. “I'm supposed to put my toys away before I can play with another one.”

“That's right,” said Brian. “Could you please put away the toys you aren't playing with before you go back to drawing?”

Ross whined wordlessly and put his head down on his scribble, fiddling with his colored pencil between both of his hands. Brian waited patiently, arms still crossed, before Ross pushed himself up on his hands and knees and started to push his toys toward the toy box where they belonged.

“Thank you,” Brian hummed, heading back into the kitchen. They had only been at this for about two hours, letting Ross relax mindlessly in the living room while Brian got some work done on the new NSP album. He checked in on the boy frequently, maybe every 15 minutes or so, but it looked like Ross had just gotten sick of being left alone.

Brian put the kettle on the stove and set up ingredients for tea for himself, while he poured Ross a cup of cranberry-raspberry juice and screwed a sippycup lid atop it.

The realization kind of hit him in the face: He, a 40-some-year-old, was being the dom to a twenty-something wanting to be treated like a four-year-old. The probability of all of that was staggeringly low, but he stood in the kitchen thinking about how Ross should have an afternoon nap at around three, what they should have for lunch, and if Ross had wet himself in the time that Brian had checked last or had gone to use the bathroom by himself. It wasn't that he didn't like it, either – he adored treating Ross this way. The way that Ross looked at him adoringly, really looking up to him as a place of security and serenity, where he could focus on how he was feeling physically rather than mentally, that he was able to feel pure, child-like emotions for a few hours every couple weeks... Brian loved it. He could feel for the kid, wanting to get away from the responsibility of adulthood for a while.

“Daddy!” Ross called. He didn't sound too urgent, but Brian headed to the living room immediately anyway.

“Rossy!” Brian mimicked, peeking around the corner. The carpet was cleared, only left with building blocks on the carpet. Ross lay on his back, looking at Brian upside down and grinning.

“Hi, Daddy,” said Ross gleefully. “Can we play with my blocks?”

“Of course, Rossy. Let me get my tea ready, and then I'll come out and play with you, okay?”

Getting a nod in return, Brian headed back into the kitchen to pour the piping-hot water for his tea and grabbing Ross' juice. It was surreal, but peaceful, when Brian walked back into the living room and handed the boy his cup, sitting on the ground next to him. Ross' face was soft and happy, even if he had been a little grumpy before for having to obey the rules and pick up his other toys. Ross wouldn't admit it, even out of his Little headspace, but he enjoyed it when things were neat and clean. It helped him get everything sorted in and out of his brain, and organize things that needed to be done. Things were simpler.

Brian slurped his tea loudly, getting Ross to giggle at the sound, before setting the mug aside and leaning forward. “Do you want to practice your spelling, buddy?”

“I can spell,” Ross laughed, turning the blocks to find the correct letters. He spelled out his own name, R-O-S-S, though the O was a zero instead. “See?”

“Good job!” Brian cheered, cupping the side of Ross' face. “You're learning every day.”

The affection always startled Ross, but he nuzzled into the praise after a second. “Thank you, Daddy.”

“Can you spell my name?” asked Brian. He watched as Ross contemplated the blocks and spelled out B-R-I-A-N, the I being the number one, and the N a sideways Z. It worked, however. “Always so creative,” he joked.

“ _Always so creative_ ,” Ross mocked with a grin. “Why do you always say silly things?”

Quickly leaning in, Brian tickled along Ross' sides. “Because you're such a silly boy!”

Basically screaming and laughing at the same time, Ross tipped over onto Brian, grasping at his forearms and curling into a ball. “Daddy! It tickles! Stop, stop!”

“What do you say?” Brian relentlessly attacked his neck and armpits, leaning in to blow raspberries on Ross' cheeks and neck.

“PLEASE!” Ross cried, falling onto his back and giggling as Brian backed off. They both smiled wide, Brian leaning onto his palm to watch as Ross pulled himself up. “You're so mean, Daddy!”

Countering quickly, Brian said, “How do you know what 'mean' is? I'm not mean.”

“You're mean!” Ross stuck his tongue out. He quickly rearranged the blocks to spell out M-E-A-N (the N still the sideways Z), pointing at them accusingly. “See?”

“I do see. You're very good at spelling, Rossy. I'm very proud of you.”

Again, the praise shocked Ross. Brian's eyes were mirthful, if not a little snarky, but he did mean every word. He was very proud of Ross, for many different reasons. He was creative, intelligent, diligent, motivated, and honest. It was hard not to be proud of someone so young, yet so successful.

Ross puffed out his cheeks and pushed at Brian's shoulder. “You are 'voiding the problem!” he huffed, poking at Brian's cheek. “You're mean!”

Brian corrected, “ _A_ -voiding. How am I mean to you, Ross?”

Ross mimicked slowly. “ _A-_ voiding.”

“Good job.”

“You're mean because you tickled me! You always say that I have to ask before touching someone. You didn't ask.”

Brian beamed. He had gone over this with Ross while he wasn't in his Little space, talking about how he thought that consent was as very serious issue. (It was brought up perhaps when Ross was lamenting about NSP's  _I want to F your A_  song in some way, and Brian decided to chide him sarcastically for it. It turned into such a long, nice conversation.) “You're right, that was mean of me. I'm sorry, Rossy. Next time, I will ask before I tickle you. I'm glad you remembered me telling you that. Can you remember what else I said about that?”

Ross nodded. “You said that my body is mine, and that no one should touch it without my permission. But I like it when you touch me sometimes, even when you don't ask. Like when you touched my cheek, or when you touch my head. It's nice, and it makes me feel like you love me.”

Fiddling with the blocks again, Ross sat quietly for a minute. It was a peaceful albeit pregnant pause. Brian didn't want to ruin the moment, watching Ross' fingers as they maneuvered the blocks to no real pattern. He liked watching Ross figure things out on his own in this headspace, watch as he learned even while he was reverted like this. It was interesting, but also one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen.

“Daddy?” whispered Ross.

“Yes, baby?”

Brian saw the shiver run through Ross' shoulders.

“I love you.”

Smiling, Brian reached over and cupped the back of Ross' head. He pulled him closer and kissed his hair. “I love you, too, Ross. Don't doubt that. You make me so happy to be here.”

A second later, Ross launched himself across Brian's lap and heavily weighed him down on the carpet. Ross giggled and kicked his feet, shoving his face into the outside of Brian's thigh. “You're so silly, Daddy!”

Winded, Brian laughed dryly. “I know, baby, _so_ silly for wanting to take care of my baby boy!”

It was strange, having Ross as a co-worker, a friend, and a sometimes-sub, but he didn't regret it at all. He would say those things even out of the scene; he loved Ross dearly, and wanted to see him grow as a person, no matter how Little or not.

 


End file.
